


Discoveries

by Concolor



Category: Teen Titans (Animated Series)
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2012-08-26
Updated: 2012-08-26
Packaged: 2017-11-12 22:43:57
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 6,172
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/496471
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Concolor/pseuds/Concolor
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Jinx finds out something about Kid Flash that she never-in-a-million-years would have guessed.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. The Long and the Short of It

**Author's Note:**

> Not really sure where this came from. My Muse never gives me answers, just more plot-bunnies. This time it was coated with a citrus-flavored glaze.
> 
> Standard Disclaimer: I have nothing to do with the Titans and they have nothing to do with me. I derive no pelf from any of the fanciful bits of drivel I post here. DC doesn't know anything about me and I'd like for it to stay that way.

. . . 

. . . 

. . . 

Quiet invested the small house, the peaceful, uninhabited quiet that descends when those who give a residence life are absent. She knew he had no pets. That had been one of his uncle’s rules that got strictly enforced, a rule which he had casually mentioned once without thinking about it. She suppressed a giggle over that thought. Engaging his mouth while his brain was still out of gear was a habit of his, one that alternately irked and delighted her. He could be a total pain in the ass, and then turn around in the very next minute and do or say something that would send such a warm flush racing over her skin that it made it hard to breathe. 

Shaking the cobwebs loose, she entered and carefully closed the back door behind her, the special mesh of her black gloves making no noise and leaving no trace. The same mesh covered the rest of her body, preventing the possibility of her leaving some telltale behind. (The odd, stray pink hair, maybe? No, that would not do.) Picking the lock (Hah! Lock. Right. Her tutors at the H.I.V.E. Academy would have sneered at it in disdain.) had taken all of seven seconds. She knew he’d only been in the house for four days, and the previous owners hadn’t bothered with an alarm system. He hadn’t gotten around to getting one installed, either. Not that she thought he ever would, since he’d left his apartment just as vulnerable, and he’d lived there for over two years. Normally, a hero as inattentive and scatterbrained as that wouldn’t last too long. She figured he must’ve been gifted with all the luck she was missing. 

Just in case, she extracted a small and highly classified device from a hidden pocket, and used it to scan the house. The only remotely active electronic things it picked up were the stereo system, three clocks, and a microwave oven. 

Ducky. 

She made a quick-but-careful circuit of the house: laundry/pantry/mudroom; eat-in kitchen; some little nook-type thing that might’ve been intended as a very small dining room, but which was instead piled high with boxes; living room, with a tiny half-bath off one side and the front door opposite; a short hall; and two small bedrooms, one of which contained his bed and dresser and access to a microscopic bath, the other playing the role of catch-all room. All told, the house might’ve covered seventy-five square meters, eighty tops. His apartment had been bigger than that! 

That second bedroom was a real mess; she had to pick her way through it carefully to avoid bumping anything. But each bedroom had a small closet, and it was in that second one that she discovered the attic access hatch. She was up in the low space inside a few seconds. 

Forty-two minutes later, she exited the house, blending back into the gathering dusk, and leaving no trace of her excursion. 

. . . 

. . . 

. . . 

Wally got home around midnight. His uniform was torn in several places, and bloodied in more than that. He had it stripped off in a fifth of a second, and it only took so long because he was so tired and discouraged. The Brotherhood of Evil had eluded them once again, leaving a string of ever-more-deadly traps in their wake, and it had been sheer luck on two occasions that he survived at all. Dumping the ruined uniform in the trash can in his bedroom, he walked dejectedly into his shower. 

. . . 

. . . 

. . . 

The abandoned storefront that Jinx had appropriated for her ‘temporary residence’ (she refused to think of it as a lair) was in a bad part of town. Not that she minded. It kept unwanted traffic to a minimum, and besides, everything of any value had already been looted from the place before she found it, so nobody was interested in it anymore. She only had to evict a couple of drunks, install steel doors front and back (carefully sheathed with weathered plywood to conceal their nature) and activate her security system to feel right at home. (There was that one thug, a month or so ago, who had followed her and tried to get the drop on her as she was going inside. Eighteen hours later he woke up in the middle of nowhere three hundred klicks away, naked and completely shaved all over, his face dyed blue.) Other than that, life had been uneventful since her last move. 

Scattered remains of a Chinese takeout dinner lay on the floor beside her. She was lounging on an old couch she’d found recently, reading the owner’s manual for the plasma flat-screen she’d picked up that morning, when the motion sensors she’d installed in Kid Flash’s house alerted her to his presence there. Instantly she skipped over and flipped on the monitor. The lenses she used in the spy-cams lent a slight fish-eye effect to the images she was able to view, but they were certainly clear enough. Immediately spotting him striding away into his bath, a small squeal slipped out as she ogled his extremely-well-defined musculature. Yeah, the spandex didn’t leave a lot to the imagination, but there was really nothing like seeing him ‘in the flesh’, as it were, and she could stare at that lean backside for hours. 

_Okay, Jinx, now we get some payback for all the stalking he used to do._

. . . 

. . . 

. . . 

After she let him go, but while she was still with the H.I.V.E., she would find those red roses all over the place. Never more than one per day, and never in their headquarters itself, but always in her path. Then, a week and a half after she helped the Titans take down the Brotherhood (the first time), she packed up a few of her significant belongings and slipped away in the night. 

Those were some lean weeks. She’d been a very confused young lady, unsatisfied with her handling of life up to then, but unsure of what else to do. Her training in the H.I.V.E. had given her a specific skill set, and she didn’t see it as being conducive to life as a hero. But his words had created something. A filter existed now between her and the world that hadn’t been there before he’d said, “You can do better.” 

It hadn’t taken her long to understand just how deeply true that statement was. The problem came in how to act upon it. 

She started traveling, finally moving halfway across the country, to Houston. Working as a solo burglar was productive, especially given that Wally had lost her somewhere on the road. That, or he had simply given up with the roses. She certainly never noticed any stray breezes where there shouldn’t have been any (which irked her … not that she’d admit it). With no one looking over her shoulder, she could be picky about her targets and take her time. The upshot was that over a four-month period she executed three heists that netted her close to eight hundred thousand dollars. Two of them weren’t even discovered while she still lived in Houston, and the one that was had completely scotched the poor wretches who investigated it. 

Once she had the money converted into a portable form, all nice and legal (minus the 15% cut for laundering) she moved to Tampa and took a brief sabbatical to explore her options. Because, while her stint in Houston had been lucrative, it left her with the nagging feeling that it wasn’t really what Kid Flash had meant by “better”. Renting a small bungalow within a ten-minute walk of the beach, she honed her skills at becoming one of the Gray People. Judiciously chosen hair dye made her a brunette, contact lenses turned her eyes hazel, and a can of spray-on tan disguised the grayish cast to her skin. With the right set of clothes, she became essentially invisible in any random group of ten or more people. 

It wore thin after two months. “Better” obviously didn’t describe this situation, either. 

She chartered a boat to Grand Cayman Island, flew British Airways to Heathrow, and then on to Brussels, where she looked up one of the contacts she’d learned about while with the H.I.V.E. Two weeks later her name (listed as Jaime Smythe) was added to the roster of a mercenary band that executed Black Ops for a group of European nations. 

At first it was satisfying. She got to use her skills while working with a well-oiled group whose expertise made her positively ashamed that she had ever directed such a clutch of losers as the H.I.V.E. Five. Their first three missions were infiltration/retrieval jobs, at which she excelled, and each one came off without a hitch. But that fourth mission … 

Yeah. That was the reason she left. She’d been forced to kill two guards, and while taking human life was something that she had thought, objectively, wouldn’t be that big a deal, as it turned out … 

That was her last stint as a mercenary. Apparently being a paid soldier didn’t fall into the “better” category, either. 

All of which had brought her back to Keystone City. Maybe if she got some direction from the horse’s mouth, so to speak, she could make some decisions about her life from an informed viewpoint. But first, she wanted to know as much about Kid Flash as he seemed to know about her. 

. . . 

. . . 

. . . 

Some six or seven minutes passed before he came back out. While he could travel at incomprehensible speeds at will, water didn’t have that ability, so getting clean had to happen the old-fashioned way. Jinx hadn’t budged. She was anticipating … 

Oh, yeah. He came out still toweling himself off. She flicked the monitor viewpoint around to get a more frontal view, then (while he tossed the towel back into the bath) she adjusted the scale and … 

_No way._

_No. Fucking. Way!_

He stood there for a few seconds, seemingly lost in thought, and giving her a perfect view of his, ah, equipment. Her eyes got huge. 

_Okay. Let’s see._ She fiddled with a few settings and a glowing grid came to life on the screen. _He’s about 185 tall, so that’s … um … seven and a half grids, call it. And that thing hangs … hm … nearly a grid …_

She sat back, somewhat stunned. 

_No freakin’ way._

But there it was. Apparently spandex left a lot more to the imagination than she’d previously guessed. 

_Damn. That means I owe Argent a ten-spot._

Eyes glued to the screen, she watched as he moved around the room, rummaged in a drawer, and pulled out a laptop. Then he reached behind the dresser and extracted a reasonably large flat screen TV (how had she missed that?), hung it on the wall across from his bed, and ran a cord from it to his laptop. Climbing onto the bed and getting comfortable, he tapped on the keyboard for a bit, and the flat screen came to life … 

… with a picture of Jinx! 

She was in the middle of a flying kick, sailing across a room with marble floors, and she recognized it instantly as the lobby of AGN International Finance Corp. She and the H.I.V.E. Five had robbed it last year. 

_How the hell did he get that photo?_

But then she noticed what Wally was doing, and forgot all about the TV. 

It got even longer as it hardened up, and his regular strokes were helping it along quite nicely. Jinx blinked and focused on it, more than slightly amazed at the dimensions it was achieving. 

She was not inexperienced. Her childhood had been one long, protracted, highly-detailed nightmare, but she’d managed to enter puberty with her “virtue” intact. By then her control over the hex force was sufficient to dissuade any would-be rapists, and when she realized that she could direct such affairs to her liking, she took a more … active role in the exploration of her interest in the opposite sex. And, yeah, it was fun. Could be fun, under the right circumstances. Could be a right pain in the ass – literally – under less-than-ideal circumstances. But she knew her way around a guy. 

Then it hit her: Wally was jerking off … to pictures of her! 

_So he does think about me that way!_

There was a different photo up, this one of her in running shorts and a midriff-baring sleeveless sweatshirt, lounging supine on a concrete park bench with her head hanging off the end. It was spring, and the blossoms of a cherry tree hung not far above her.

She had to admit that she looked damn good that way. The day in question had been an official H.I.V.E. Five holiday, sort of a victory declaration after they’d pulled a successful heist and (for once) kicked the Titans’ collective keisters. 

Well, okay, Raven and Beast Boy hadn’t been on hand, and they’d gotten a little lucky with the placement of … 

Never mind. The got the loot and got away, and that’s all that’s really important, right? 

The photo changed again. 

_How many pictures does he have of me, anyhow?_

This was a stunning high-definition view of her tossing a hex blast at something behind her. Her costume was ripped in a few places – a few strategic places – and the way she was moving combined with the position of her arms seemed to … enhance certain aspects of her anatomy. That, or she’d been photoshopped. She wouldn’t put it past him at this point. 

Her gaze drifted back to Wally, and stayed there for a bit. He was using both hands now (there was certainly plenty of space) and had sped up some. Head thrown back, he was moving his lips in the same pattern over and over … 

Lip-reading was something she’d picked up in the H.I.V.E. She squinted, trying to decipher … 

_Jinx … Honey … Yes … Like that …_

Movement caught her eye, and she flicked back to the screen, where a video clip played. Her mouth dropped open. That was after she’d dyed her hair! She was walking along the beach in the early morning, wearing that zebra-striped bikini and … 

… and she realized that she had her fingertips against a very sensitive place, and that the sensitive place was getting quite damp. 

She thought about it for only a second before a wicked grin crept onto her face, and she increased the pressure, eliciting a very low, almost unnoticeable moan. 

He had followed her after all. But he left her alone. Did he know about Houston? If so, why didn’t he … 

_Ah, fuck it. Who cares?_ She was much too titillated with her current activity to worry about something that obviously hadn’t interfered with her life. 

Maybe that was it? Maybe he was just … letting her find herself? The thought skittered across her mind like a cricket, losing itself in the dense hedge of lust that was quickly taking over the landscape. She watched avidly as he manipulated himself, becalmed by the way the head of his manhood seemed to pulse. 

She increased her own rhythm, the illicit nature of what she was doing exciting her as she hadn’t been in a long, long time. It hadn’t really occurred to her before that she might be something of a voyeur. Never crossed her mind, really. But … _**damn!**_ She closed her own eyes, leaned her head back against the chair, pushed the flimsy material of her undergarment aside, and plunged two fingers inside. 

Not ten seconds later, her world exploded in one of the most intense orgasms she’d ever had, drenching the seat of her chair, and leaving her a shivering, quivering mass. 

“You like that, huh?” 

Jerking upright with a shriek, she whirled, nearly falling off the chair in her haste to regain her feet. There he was! Right there, in her … um … temporary residence! And … 

… and … 

… and he was still naked! 

This was throwing her seriously off her kilter. He just stood there, grinning, arms crossed over that (Delicious! Rippling!) chest, with that – that – that fireplace poker sticking out in front of him. 

“How the hell did you … where did … what kind of … when …” 

“You dropped by my place earlier today. I just thought I’d return the favor.” 

Her blank, incredulous look made him hoot with laughter. “All my doors and windows have these microscopic proximity switches. They don’t send any signals or trip any alarms, but they record who comes through and when. You were in my house for forty-five minutes.” 

“But I scanned …” 

“It’s alien tech, courtesy of my uncle’s connection to the Watchtower. Doesn’t use electricity.” 

“. . . . . . . . . . Shit.” 

He laughed even harder at that. 

“How’d you know where I was?” 

“Followed you.” 

“… Followed me? But …” 

“I got back before you left. I could tell the back door had been opened, so I just waited outside until you left. Imagine my surprise when it turned out to be you!” 

“… But …” 

“You seem to be using that word a lot.” 

“What was with the torn uniform?! Was that a hoax?” 

“Oh, no. No hoax. After you got back here, I got a message from the League that they’d located the Brotherhood. Turned out to be a decoy – a heavily booby-trapped decoy – and …” 

“How’d you know I was watching?” 

Silently, he pointed up at one corner of the room. She followed his direction and eventually caught a very slight glint behind some cobwebs, and her mouth fell open again. 

“You _**did**_ know I was watching you!” 

“Yep.” 

“You son of a bitch! You played me!” 

“No, I played with myself. You just …” 

“Son of a bitch.” 

“Heh. I’ve got a utility on my laptop than lets me watch what’s coming in from that spy-cam in a small box in a corner of the screen.” 

She turned back to face him and crossed her own arms, her expression unreadable. “You missed your calling. You’re a damn good spy.” 

“You’re a special case.”

Her eyes dropped back to his still-engorged manhood. “I gotta admit … I wasn’t expecting that.” 

“So I gathered.” 

Slowly ambling in his direction, she stopped just beside him and let one arm drop, let one finger rest lightly at the base and then even more lightly drag the tip of a nail down to the end. That brought forth a couple of noises that made her grin. “You like that, huh?” 

“… Touche.” His voice was a bit ragged.

“So tell me, Mister West …” 

“… What?” 

“How long have you had this fetish of yours?” 

“My only fetish has pink hair and a wicked sense of humor.” 

“Don’t forget that she can also blow your skin off your body if she feels like it.” 

“That fact is never far from my mind.” He sidled over and slipped an arm around her waist. “It’s … exciting.” 

“Well, _**something**_ is obviously exciting.” 

His other arm found its way around her, which made their position a tiny bit awkward, given what was pressing against her belly. She giggled and wrapped one hand around it. He gurgled something in response. 

Coaxing her features into lines of Severe-Schoolmistress-With-A-Side-Of-Determination, she said, “You realize this won’t fit, don’t you?” 

He just blinked at her. 

“Not at first, anyhow. We’ll have to work up to it slowly.” 

“Is that right?” 

“Yes, it is.” 

“Then don’t you think we ought to get started?” 

“I do.” She nodded in placid agreement. “Yes, that I truly do.” . . . . . . . . .


	2. Oh, You Kid!

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Jinx, feline sort that she is, must needs satisfy her curiosity .......

. . . 

. . . 

. . . 

“When you say you don’t think it’ll fit …” 

“Think, nothin’.” She gave him another sly grin. “I know it for sure.” Stroking one slim hand along his length, she added, “I’ve never seen _anyone_ who was hung even _**close**_ to what you’re packin’.” Patting the tip lightly, as if it were a puppy, she giggled, “Armed and dangerous, by god.” 

Returning her smile, he said, “Glad you like it.” 

“Oh, I plan to do more than ‘like’ it.” She turned her back to him, swung a leg over his length, and snuggled in close, reaching down and pulling it up tight between her legs. “Looky! I’ve got a dick!” 

“Heh. Always knew you had balls, but this is new.” 

Her head craned back to look up at him. “You’ve had a growth spurt, haven’t you?” 

“And you’re sitting on it.” 

“I meant your height, stupid.” 

“I know what you meant.” And he leaned down and lightly kissed her cheek, just in front of her ear. 

She shivered a little, and then pulled away and turned to face him, giving him a contemplative look. Then, with a smile that might almost have been called shy, she raised her arms over her head. 

He obliged by pulling off her shirt, slowly and carefully so as not to mash anything that didn’t need mashing. 

“I **_thought_** you weren’t wearing a bra.” 

“What’s the point, you know? I’m not even a B-cup.” 

Moving closer, he took her in his arms and softly kissed her smile. 

She was a little surprised at how tender it felt. Capturing his gaze, she said, “I won’t break, you know.” 

Those sapphire orbs holding her attention, he paused a moment before saying, “I’m not jumping into this lightly, Jinx. I’ve thought about it for a long time. A _really_ long time.” 

“You haven’t been _alive_ a really long time.” 

“A significant percentage of my life, then. It feels like a long time to me.” He pulled her close again and left a trail of kisses from her forehead down to her collarbone, bringing forth a couple of muted gasps. 

_Come on, knees, hold it together!_

He moved lower, getting agonizingly near to her nipple, then decided that she wasn’t close enough and picked her up. Obligingly, her legs wrapped around his waist. Carrying her thus, he walked over and set her on the back of the couch, but didn’t let go. One arm steadied her lower back while the other moved up to just below her neck; he leaned into her, causing her to try to catch her balance, but … 

“I’ll hold you. Don’t worry.” 

She relaxed then and let him do just that. She knew he was pretty strong, and the muscles of his arms and abdomen felt like wood. “I’m not worried.” 

He didn’t answer, being involved with capturing her nipple in his mouth. She gave him an inarticulate squeak, followed by a series of low moans. 

Spending a few minutes going back and forth between her (extremely taut) nipples, he maneuvered around until the tip of his manhood was pressed between her legs. He could feel how wet she was, and … Breaking off suddenly, he asked, “You don’t have a bed, do you?” 

She was in no mood for conversation, pulling him back to her breast. “Don’t stop.” 

A grin was her answer. “I’m not stopping. I’m just changing things up.” He eyed her short skirt. “And you have too many clothes on.” 

“So fix it.” 

He turned her about ninety degrees and laid her down along the top of the couch. (Fortunately it was an overstuffed version and pretty soft.) Then he moved in between her legs, leaned down, and caught the front of her panties with his teeth. One very pleasant minute later, they were tossed on the floor. “You smell fantastic.” 

“Hmmmm.” 

His head cocked to one side. “Shaved, huh?” 

“Nope. Never grew any pubic hair.” 

His grin grew wide. “Cool!” Then he leaned forward and nuzzled her, and her mind fuzzed out completely. 

A minute or so later, she managed to gasp out, “Wh-where did … you learn … that?” 

“Learn? What learn? This is the first time I’ve ever done it.” 

Wide eyes met his in incredulous disbelief. “No way!” 

“Way. I’ve, uh, done some, um … research. But I’ve never been muff-diving before.” 

“Huh. And you don’t mind it?” 

“Nice work if you can get it.” 

“The smell doesn’t bother you?” 

“The smell is fantastic.” He leaned in again and ran his tongue slowly up the inner left edge of her labia. “And the taste is even better.” 

“Grb-bb-bb-bb-bb-bb,” was all she was capable of saying at the moment. He chuckled and dived back in. 

Her fingers twined into his hair and pulled him harder into her womanhood. 

Deftly, he explored every nook and fold he could reach, paying careful attention to the stiff, pink bud at the apex, never quite leaving it alone, but not over-stimulating it either. In only a couple of minutes, Jinx’s back arched, she gave vent to a high-pitched squeal, and Wally got a face full of squirt. He laughed again, holding her securely so she wouldn’t just ooze off the couch and plop onto the floor. 

“Son … of … a … bitch … Wally!” 

“You’re welcome.” 

When she could breathe properly, she asked, “And you mean to tell me you’ve never done that before? That was incredible! The best! Holy shit, Wally!” 

“First time. Scout’s honor.” 

“But how …” 

He looked a little guilty. “Well, see, Speedy has a pretty … extensive collection of porn, and he sort of … recommended a few of ‘em. As, ah, instructional videos.” 

Peals of laughter rang out at that. 

“Wow.” 

She quirked an eyebrow at him. “What?” 

“Your laugh. It’s so … pretty. Musical. I’ve never heard it before, not like that.” 

She was kind of disturbed by the near-adoration in his eyes. “ ‘s just a laugh.” 

“Jinx, nothing with you is ‘just’ anything. You are … exceptional.” 

_Yeah, that’s one of those things he says that makes me go all gooey._ Clearing her throat, she said, “We need to trade places.” 

“… How’s that?” 

She flipped and slid until she was kneeling on the cushions while leaning forward against the back of the couch. “C’mere.” 

He obliged, and she reached over and grabbed the end of his cock and brought it up close to her face, inspecting it from a few angles. "Daaaaaaaamn." 

He snorted a laugh. "Something wrong?" 

"Hell, no. Everything is too damn right for words." And her delicate, pink tongue reached out and slowly circled his glans. 

Then it was his turn for his knees to betray him. He shuddered and slumped forward, holding himself up by bracing his hands against the back of the couch. "Holy … hell!" 

She giggled again and scooted a little closer so she could run her tongue along his shaft, down and back, down and back, while the fingers of one hand lightly tickled its underside. He made encouraging noises (they encouraged her, at any rate) and locked his legs so he wouldn't fall over. She couldn't really get that much of it in her mouth. It was just too darn big, and she didn't have much practice at unhinging her jaw. _But_ , she thought to herself, _more practice sounds like a good thing._

Wally wasn't worried. What she was doing felt incredible. In fact, it felt so good that … "J-J-Jinx?" 

"Hm?" His reactions to her ministrations were most gratifying, and she was really getting into it. 

"We … you, ah … need to … stop." 

Cocking an eye up at him, she asked, "How come?" 

"If you don't …" He swallowed, hard. "… I'm gonna cum." 

"Isn't that, like, the idea?" 

He looked down at her quizzically, meeting her gaze. "But …" 

"You let me worry about that. This is too much fun to quit now." And she took his head into her mouth again. 

That sight did it. The view he had of her beautiful face, her mesmerizing eyes, her gorgeous pink hair draping around and falling over his shaft while she … while she did **Those Things** to him … pushed him over the edge. 

That he sprayed the back of her throat didn't surprise her. That the head got (briefly) even bigger, did. The spasms pressed on the roof of her mouth, pushed down on her tongue, and she reflexively pulled away to keep from gagging. 

His voice was a ragged whisper, and thick with mortification. "Damn … Jinx … hell, I'm sorry!" 

"Sorry?" She swallowed, spit a couple of times and wiped her mouth. "For what, being sexy?" Examining the few strings of white, translucent semen that clung to her fingers, she observed, "Wow. This stuff is sticky!" 

"Well …" He had to pant for a bit and collect his faculties. "I – I know it doesn't … you know, smell very good, so I'm pretty sure it doesn't …" 

"Smells okay to me." She licked her fingers off. 

Eyes very round, he managed, "… Really?" 

"Hey, look, I don't like the way my cooch smells, but it didn't seem to bother you." 

"Ha! Bother? Not hardly." 

"Okay, then. I mean, yeah, it tastes a little weird, but it ain't bad." She gave him that thousand-watt smile. "And getting to it is _**loads**_ of fun." 

"Hey!" He put up his hands in defense. "I got nooooo complaints!" 

"It didn't sound like you did." 

"Speaking of cooch, you up for another round?" 

"Hell, yes!" Grinning evilly, he snatched her up, causing her to shriek in delighted surprise. Then he turned her upside down, rested her thighs across his shoulders, and held her in place by _**her**_ shoulders … and dived back in. 

_Well, **this** is novel,_ was the last coherent thought Jinx had for a while; Wally's tongue was busily sweeping away anything remotely rational. The blood would have rushed to her head, hanging down as she was, if it weren't so busy collecting behind her womanhood. She'd never before really given much thought to just how _damn **good**_ sex could feel (the other few trysts she'd had weren't anything _like_ as talented as Wally), and loved this crash course they were both taking. Soon, she felt the prickly, excited pressure building up; she gripped his legs tightly with both hands; he leaned back a little so that she could rest against him, her small, high breasts tight on his hard stomach. And with a sharp gasp, followed by a long, keening moan, she came even harder than she had that last time, squeezing her legs spasmodically against his ears. 

He really _**did**_ have to hold her together then: as soon as the climax passed, she seemed to lose the use of her limbs. Her breath shallow and rapid, eyes rolled back in her head, she sort of flopped into a ball as he gently lowered her down to the couch. A light sheen of sweat covered her, and the scent of sex was heavy in the air. 

He plopped down beside her, ran his fingers lightly down the middle of her back, and drank in the sight. "My god, you're beautiful." 

"Uhnn-gnnummuh guh." 

"Articulate, too." 

She blinked at him, giggled, and flopped an arm over onto his belly. Then her hand bumped into something, and … "Damn." 

"What?" 

"You're hard again." 

"And you're incredibly sexy, and I'm crazy about you. So don't be so shocked." 

Drawing a few deep breaths, she got herself into a sitting position and locked eyes with him. "You really feel that way, don't you?" 

"Jinx … let me just put my cards on the table." Leaning forward, he said, quietly but intensely, "I love you. I have for some time. If you have any doubts, you haven't been paying attention." 

A slight blush tinted her cheeks as she dropped her eyes. 

He reached for her and raised her face. "Hey, I didn't mean to …" 

"No, it's okay." She took his hand in both of hers. "It's just that … see … nobody ever really … I mean, not _**really**_ … yeah, sure sometimes some guy'd say nice things, but nobody … not really … ever …" Her voice got small. "… ever meant it." 

Very little distance separated them, so he found it quite easy to lean forward and kiss her. She returned it timidly at first – that is, his impression was of timidity – but then he realized she was holding back tears. Shocked, and sitting up straight, he said, "Jinx? What … sweetie, I'm sorry, what did I …" 

"No!" She covered his lips with two fingers. "Not you. Never you. I'm the one to be sorry. You didn't do anything wrong." Giving him a watery laugh, she continued, "Hell, no. So far you've done everything right. Amazingly, wonderfully right." She scooted over and formed herself to him. "So right that I'm having a hard time getting my brain around it." She trailed the backs of her fingernails down his arm, which raised gooseflesh back up it and across his chest. "I'm just so used to bad luck. This might take some getting used to." 

"We have all the time in the world." 

"Okay." Regarding his re-erected manhood, she placed her small hand around it and rubbed her thumb gently back and forth over the tip, drawing a stuttering hiss from her lover. 

With another grin forming, she slid away and slowly rose to her feet, facing him. Then (again, slowly) she pushed her skirt down over her hips and let it poof into a soft pile at her feet. 

Wally was pretty sure he'd never seen anything quite as sensual in his life. 

Swinging her hips suggestively, Jinx took the few steps over to him, straddled his legs, and eased herself down onto his lap. His cock pressed against her belly, and she rubbed a hand along the top, maintaining total eye contact the while. Then she raised herself up just high enough, and moved forward just far enough … 

Her entrance was hot, and slick with her juices, and he met little resistance at first. She wiggled around a few times, to get it headed in just right, then let her weight push her down onto it. 

She was right about the fit: when it was in as far as it could go without actual pain, there was still about half its length visible. But she didn't care a whit. This was glorious! She'd never felt so full, so fulfilled, or so close to anyone. She had a few 'toys' of her own, but none was as big, as broad, or as _**real**_ as her lover. 

Lover! Yes! He loved her! 

The knowledge and the sensation twined together deep inside her as she slowly pumped herself up and down. The steady rhythm quickly recalled that urgent, glowing ember of need … 

"Jinx?" 

Realizing that her eyes were closed, she opened them and gazed fuzzily at him. "Hm?" 

He gripped her around the waist and stood up with her. And _**that**_ sensation was totally unexpected! The angle changed, his cock swept past a particularly happy spot somewhere inside her, and she gasped in shock and delight. 

Frowning, he asked, "You okay?" 

"Whoooo. I passed 'okay' a long, long way back, honey." Dipping her head and moving her hips around, she said, "Can you do that again?" 

For an answer, he captured her left leg and brought it up to rest on his right shoulder. With her right foot still on the floor, this altered both the approach and the angle, and gave him a large measure of control over their joining. She wrapped one hand around behind his neck and grabbed his arm with the other while he supported her torso with both his hands. Then he started moving. 

It was pure pleasure, refined, distilled, solidified and deposited deep into her body. Something inside, something up near the top of her womb, was responding eagerly to the stimulus, and she simply couldn't hold a thought in her head. It just felt too damn good to worry about anything else. 

Her first orgasm took her in about four minutes. But Wally didn't stop. Since he'd already had one himself, it would be a little while before it happened again, if at all. But that was not true for Jinx, and he _**did**_ know that much about the female anatomy. He moved one hand down to her clit and pressed his thumb lightly but firmly against it. She came again thirty seconds later. 

"Hh … hh … hh … hh … hh … hh …" 

"You okay, sweetie?" 

"Uhnh … more …" 

He smirked. "Sure thing." 

She came twice more in the next six minutes, and then her leg finally gave out. He laid her carefully down on the couch, made sure her head was supported, put her right foot up on the back, her left foot on the floor, and plunged in again. She was so tight, so slick … so inviting. That deeply satisfied look in her half-lidded eyes, that silly grin that refused to dim, made him feel like a sex god. And then, to his surprise, he exploded once more. The pounding rhythm of his cock deep inside her pulled yet another climax from Jinx as well. Then Wally collapsed on the couch next to her. 

She slid and squirmed up onto his chest, and laid her head down into the crook of his neck. Once she'd caught her breath, she said, "Hey, Wally?" 

"… Hnh … huhh … yeah?" 

"I think my luck's changing." 

"Heh … yeah. Mine, too." 

"I could get really, really used to this." 

"I'm … used to it … already … hnh …" 

Wrapping an arm around his shoulder and gripping him to her tightly, she said, "Good."


End file.
